


There Ain't No Such Thing As Nothin'

by Semi_Weird_Shipper



Category: Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Arguing, Depression, Drinking, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Fights, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, George deserves to be happy, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Slash, Men Crying, Recovery, Sad with a Happy Ending, rare pair hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-24
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2021-01-02 06:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21156935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_Weird_Shipper/pseuds/Semi_Weird_Shipper
Summary: It's been almost a month. George still can't move on... Not without help from a certain tall, handsome man at least.George is so smol and sweet, I just want him to be happy ^V^





	There Ain't No Such Thing As Nothin'

**Author's Note:**

> I plan on continuing this story, but I'm not sure how long until I actually do update. Sometimes it depends on how much credit it gets, but I really love the concept between sad, emotional George and kind, understanding Slim being together, so I should be updating soon.
> 
> All in all, I hope everyone enjoys reading and has a wonderful day. We need more George x Slim out there.

It was night time. Endless columns of stars glistened brightly around the iridescent halo of the full moon. Faded leaves of all colors sprinkled down from the gently swaying trees, decorating the waters clear surface. Crickets and cicadas sang dimly for the cooling weather was becoming too much for them to sing in chorus together. But George didn't mind the quietness as he sat in front of the pile of dirt and twigs before him, knees crookedly drawn up and elbows resting limp upon them.

George spent most nights down here for a great many reasons. It was peaceful, dark and where no one would bother him. There was privacy, water and a certain serenity hanging in the air here. Maybe it was the draped trees and thinning bush. Maybe it was the creek bed or the large hole beyond the trees that revealed the beautiful night time sky. It could of been anything, but most importantly, it was where Lennie died and, now, where he was buried.

At first, whenever George had been able to drunkenly limp back to the spot where he had killed Lennie just half an hour beforehand, he blew up in rage to see that Curly and some of the others had tossed his body near the water like some forgotten piece of trash. No. Nu-uh. Not on his watch. In his drunken state, George had begun to kick at the dirt, screaming and yelling and hitting at random tree branches. He told the world how he felt even though it was not listening; Lennie was stupid, didn't people get that? Ok. He was small minded and stupid, but did he really have to die? Did people really have to be so closed minded? And did he really have to be so hard on the big guy himself? Did he have to go play horse shoes, drink and leave Lennie unattended? Huh? Did he have to kill him?!

George felt tears cloud his eyes as he thought about that day. He thought about it every day. It was a force of habit by now. It had been over a month and not one day went by that he didn't think about it. Sometimes he'd even tell the simple story about the rabbits to Lennie's grave in which Slim had helped him make. Tears would come upstream, but they brought comfort to his crumbled world. He told the story like maybe Lennie could hear it, like maybe a part of him was still here, could still feel and listen.

Looking down at the makeshift grave, George swallowed a lump in his throat. He hadn't ate or drank anything in a few hours. His mouth was dry and his stomach cramped, but he took that pain as a welcoming bargain tool to distract the deeper pain he felt way down on the inside.

The twigs on Lennie's grave had been the ones George had torn and punched from trees in his horrific outburst that day. Ironic as it may be, the little man found that it suited his long life friend's grave somehow. It was like putting both their fears together and sharing. A small weight lifted from the broad river of burdens in their hearts. Well... At least George's heart.

"Thought I might find ya here," Said a smooth, calm voice from atop the small hill.

George turned his head back to see the moon lit figure of Slim standing just a few meters away, his hands on his hips. He merely twisted his lips and looked back at the water, trying to avoid showing his mimicking eyes. "What're you doin' 'ere?" he mumbled, pouting at the lake.

"What'a ya think?" Slim asked, his voice still outstandingly calm as he walked down the small hill closer to the grieving man, "You haven't eaten all day. I's jus' wantin' to check up on ya. Make sure you were alright and... all."

George looked down at the ground when he felt Slim's presence coming closer and closer till it was right beside him. Much to his frustration, his cheeks began to heat up and he lowered his head, feeling aggravated by how quickly his entire body lit to life. He continued to avoid eye contact, not wanting the other man to notice either one of his manly burdens.

Ever since that day- the day of his outburst- Slim had been the one to cradle his broken form, to grab him and pull him into his strong, warm, comforting arms and take in all his cries and wails. He had listened to all his complaints, problems and fears and told him nothing other than it was alright. It was going to be alright.

Maybe it was the fact that that was all George wanted to hear that made him so fond of Slim. Maybe it was the fact that Slim had been the only one to truly understand Lennie. It could have just been the fact that he was there when no one else was. Or maybe... it was everything.

"Mm fine," George said grumpily, his heart picking up its pace. Slim always checked on him. Every day and every night. It didn't seem as mutual like when Candy asked him every other day, but almost special. Or at least, George would like to think it was special.

The smaller man tensed whenever Slim started to descend down beside him, taking a seat on the soft, leafy ground just inches before his own delicate body. His own unique sent filled George up with more heat and more admiration. Slim smelt like cattle, wheat, fresh air and whatever type of morning musk he liked to use on occasion. It made George wonder why he used it today.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, just staring out at the lake, ground and sky. "It's a beautiful night," Slim broke the quiet breeze with his luscious voice, his light blue eyes gazing up at the pearlescent moon.

"Mhm," George mildly confirmed although he was still looking at the ground.

Slim turned his head, and George could feel his eyes burning through the side of his head. "Ya know... I heard yous' and Candy's conversation this mornin'," He admitted, sounding a little bit disappointed.

George finally caved in, hoping the dark night covered his emotions as he looked over at the other male. "Oh yeah?" he asked back, knowing that he had been caught, "What all ya hear?"

Slim shook his head slightly and brushed his fingers along the dirt until he found a small twig and scooped it up into his hand. "Nothin' much. Jus' somethin' about gettin' some money and a farm house alil' far away from here," he shrugged, snapping the small stick between his fingers.

George continued to look at him, his face unamused yet suspicious. "That ain't all ya heard, was it?" He asked knowingly.

Slim flicked the twig at the ground and looked back over at his night time companion. Their eyes locked. Light blue to watery, dark blue. He thinned his lips, holding in a small sigh as he nodded, "I heard ya'lls argument. Candy don't think you really want that place."

"I ain't got nothin' left to buy it with," George defended himself, his hands coming out for gesture. "An' jus' the two of us don't stand no chance. Without Lennie, we ain't got nothin'."

"That ain't true, George," Slim said, not sounding at all defensive, but simply wanting the other man to understand.

"Hell to barely it ain't," George stood up, tearing himself away from the ground and grave, his eyes acting up again, "This wad'nt some fantasy I came up with, 'right? It was Lennie's idea.... and he ain't 'ere no more..."

Slim calmly stood up afterwards, turning to look at the back of the other man. "Jus' 'cause Lennies gone don't mean that you can't finda' way to make his dream happen," he spoke just as calm as the stars looked in the sky. Peaceful, still, undemanding. Caring.

A tear slipped from George's eye, and then another and another followed by more to come. Slim had never told him to move on like others had. He gave him space, time, comfort and privacy. He was caring and empathetic. It was overwhelming. He always said things that made so much sense and yet lacked all the sense in the world. Lennie was gone. It was his fault. Slim gave him the choice of letting it be his fault. He said he didn't have enough money. Slim gave him the hope that there was a way for him to get enough money. It was absolutely overwhelming. His heart throbbed.

He'd never get enough money to achieve Lennie's dream because he killed him.

"Hey?" Slim mumbled soothingly, placing his hand on the back of the shorter man's shoulder.

George didn't tense this time, too taken by his feelings to register anything other than absently welcomed comfort by the touch. He cursed himself for releasing a small sob and a few rushed breaths, wiping his nose quickly after. He was thankful that Slim either didn't notice or didn't care that he was a full grown man crying, but it wasn't like this would be the first time he saw him in the stance.

Feeling the hand on his shoulder turn, George tried shaking his head when he saw Slim's worn, old boots just before his lowered eyes. He didn't want him seeing his face right now, not while he was like this. He was about to shrug himself away, sniffing until something touched the bottom of his jawline. Jerking in startlement from the unexpected touch, George looked up at the other man, shaking a few times in confusion before going still.

Slim was looking at him, not in pity, not in sorrow and definitely not in repulsion. Instead, there was a type of understanding there that decorating the entire of his handsome face. His calm eyes seemed to be focused on everything and nothing at once as he lifted his hand back up and touched George's face again.

George jerked a little, confusion and shock washing over him as that calloused, warm palm smoothed it's way up his wet cheek, wiping away the tears. He stilled, eyes going from the unexpected hand to the taller man's sparkling blue eyes. "Why're you so damn nice ta'me?" he asked, more tears threatening to spill as his lips gaped and his head shook, "I ain't done nothin' right my entire life... Nodin..."

As his voice broke at the end, George tried lowering his face only to feel resistance. That warm, gentle hand on the side of his cheek stroked over his nose and eye, slowly lowering down to his stubble and lips. George felt his face heating back up and he looked back at the taller man, his watery eyes sparkling just as much as the moon light sky.

"There ain't no such thing as nothin', George," Slim spoke in that comforting simplicity, almost like he had rehearsed it a thousand times. His body came closer and his hand stooped lower, down to the smaller man's neck.

George jerked faintly again, confusion and anticipation washing over him. He was about to ask what the hell the other man was doing, but found all the answers finally solved whenever their lips pressed together. George had jerked once more, going tense and immediately backing away. He didn't make a noise as he panted, glaring at the other man.

They stared at each other for a few long seconds, Slim standing looking calm and collected whilst George appeared taken back and aggressively baffled.

But then something broke. It was as if a light ignited an extreme thirst inside his little body, for George rushed forward, stepped up to the man, reached a hand around the back of his head and pressed their lips together. It was firm and simple, meant to be straight. George's chapped lips felt like heaven pressed against Slim's softer, full ones. He pulled back just as fast, panting even more as he looked Slim up and down as if to confirm that everything that had just happened had been completely real.

Then, as if to settle it all out, they both came back together with just the same amount of force. Slim wrapped his arms around George's waist and back while George held tight onto his neck and head. Their lips collided quickly, instantly intersecting and sliding together. Heart rates began to rise like balloons released into the sky as they pressed into one another, drinking in each other's sent and passion.

Slim's hands ran up and down the smaller man's back as they kissed, feeling out his delicate muscles through the overused fabric of his flannel shirt. George concentrated more on the kiss, the warmth in his body and the man in front of him, never ever wanting this moment to end.

The sound of their entangled tounges and winding lips became the new song of the night, and it continued for many long, lung suffocating minutes.

Slim was the first to separate, their mouths both hot and wet from the intense kiss. They panted, looking at one another with met desire and answered lust. Slim was the first to reach forward to unbutton the smaller man's shirt. George stopped him however.

"Naw..." George looked down, "Not 'ere."

Slim then realized what George meant as he joined his eyes, looking down at Lennie's grave. "Anything ya want, George," He tilted his chin up, giving him a loving smile, "I'll give it to ya."


End file.
